


Home improvement

by Bouncy_cat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, I'm ignoring canon at some points, M/M, innocent use of power tools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouncy_cat/pseuds/Bouncy_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has decided to rebuild the Hale house and do most of the work himself. Having never done anything like it before, he's in way over his head.</p>
<p>Stiles catches him being a failwolf and steps in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Go away Stiles.”

“Dude, seriously.”

“Go bother Scott.”

Stiles bristles at the condescending tone, and he’s tempted to do as Derek says. There are better, more fun things he can do with his free time…but then he _does_ want to have a nice home where the whole pack can meet and relax, and Derek’s making a mess of things. “No, _dude_ , I won’t, because-”

Derek interrupts him with a growl. “Stiles, leave me alone. I have work to do.”

And that pisses Stiles off because that’s always been Derek’s problem, as an alpha and now as a beta. He doesn’t listen to other people, even when he should, especially when he should.

“Listen up, sourwolf.” he says, poking Derek’s shoulder repeatedly, “You can flash your pretty blue eyes at me all you want, but that nice piece of plywood you’ve got there? You’ve got the smooth side down, which means you’ll have to turn it over, and then the angle you’re about to saw will be all wrong.” He points viciously at the wood Derek is holding. “That? No fit.”

Derek blinks down at the wood beneath his hands, and flips it over. He silently grabs the measuring tape, measures out the size he needs and draws a new line to saw along. Before he puts his crosscut saw to the wood, he looks back up at Stiles for confirmation.

He nods and Derek starts to saw.

“You know you’re going to need to get a load of power tools if you really want to do this, right?”

“I don’t-”

“Yeah you do.”

“I’m strong enough to-”

“Oh my god, Derek, seriously?!” Stiles rubs his hands through his hair in frustration, and then makes a wide gesture, trying to encompass the whole house in one move. “This isn’t about your werewolfy strength and stamina. It’s about efficiency. If you seriously want to do most of the renovation yourself, you need to work faster, because at this rate it’ll take you twelve fucking years.”

Derek doesn’t acknowledge Stiles’ words, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the saw in his hands.

Stiles throws his hands up in resignation and turns to head downstairs. “At least buy a fucking electrical jigsaw!” he calls over his shoulder.

Screw Derek, he thinks, as he climbs into his jeep, he can deal with the renovation of the Hale house all by his lonesome. _Stiles_ is going over to Scott to try and actually enjoy his vacation before college starts up again.

* * *

It’s three days later when Stiles phone rings and Derek’s grumpy picture pops up on the little screen. “Hey there, sourwolf,” he answers, because he’s decided not to hold a grudge. That, and he’s just really curious to see what Derek wants from him.

“Stiles”

“Inflection man, it’s a thing.”

Derek ignores him, as per usual. “The electrical jigsaw”

“Yes?”

There’s a vague sound at the other end of the line, like Derek clearing his throat. “What specifications does it need?”

“Specifications?”

Derek says nothing and there’s a long, rather uncomfortable silence. Only when Stiles hears typical store type sounds in the background he’s able to translate Derek’s question into something an actual normal person might ask.

It translates roughly into ‘you just said _electrical jigsaw_ , how was I supposed to know there are ten million of them, which one am I supposed to buy?’

This, he can help with. “Alright,” he says, pulling up Google on his laptop, “are you going for good, or affordable?”

“Good.”

He really wasn’t expecting anything else. “Okay, what brands do they have?”

Derek obediently lists every brand he sees and Stiles listens with half an ear while his fingers fly over the keyboard. Within minutes he has what he needs. “There’s one by Bosch that has very good reviews.  It’s the 1590EVS. Do they have that one?”

There’s a short silence before Derek tells him that yes, they have it.

“Alright, get it- Wait! Do you have a cart?”

“No”

“Get a cart first.”

“Why?” It comes out almost petulantly, and Stiles reigns in the urge to snicker. “Because there’s more stuff you need, and while you’re there anyway, you might as well get it.” He really hopes Derek does, because if his little ‘home-improvement’ research spree of the last two days taught him anything, it’s that the alpha-turned-beta is woefully under-equipped.

It’s silent for a while and Stiles wonders if he’s pushing too hard, but then Derek speaks again. “Okay, I’ve got the cart.”

“Right. Great. Got the Bosch?”

“Yeah”

“Alright, you’re going to need an industrial strength vacuum, dude. A freaking broom just isn’t going to cut it.”

“Okay”

Silence

“I can’t find it.”

Stiles snorts. “Ask an employee. Just smile and ask for directions, there’s not shame in it.  I know you can do it, I’ve seen you do it before.”

Derek huffs, but moments later he hears the man’s fake sounding ‘please help me, I’m charming and helpless’ voice, and he’s obviously being shown to the right aisle.

There’s a conversation going on that Stiles can only hear half of, but he assumes it ends in Derek getting a vacuum, because his next words to Stiles are “What else?”

“A workbench dude, absolute necessity.”

One hour, a random-orbit sander, power-drill, magnetic screwdriver set, and a whole host of other tools later, Derek is at the checkout and Stiles can hear him not giving a damn when he has to shell out what has to be over a thousand dollars.

“Stiles…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s never going to fit.”

Right. Because Derek seems to switch cars like other people switch phones, and some time ago the, admittedly boring, Toyota, was replaced with the Camaro once again.

“You want me to come over with the Jeep?”

“You don’t have to,” Derek says, “I can ask if they deliver.”

But Stiles hears the distaste in his voice, and he suspects that in _this_ he and Derek are much the same. He buys something, he wants it that instant. “What store are you at?”

“Home Depot”

“Be right there.” He hangs up and grabs his keys, feeling ridiculously cheery. He figures he has a shopping high…and it’s not even coming out of his pocket… _Score_. 

Stiles was slightly worried Derek would be gone by the time he got to the store, but he sees him as soon as he turns into the parking lot. He looks a little lost, standing next to the Camaro with a cart that’s so full it looks like the thing might break beneath the weight of it all.

“Hi” Stiles greets Derek with a little wave.

“Hi”

Okay, they just spent like an hour and a half on the phone together, there’s no way Stiles is going to let it get awkward again. They have a bond now. A home-improvement, shopping bond, and Stiles is going to make it last, and if that means he has to take charge, then that’s what he’s gonna do. “Okay, I’m gonna put the large stuff in the jeep, you put the small stuff in the Camaro.”

Derek nods and immediately gets to work, and Stiles takes a moment to appreciate his newfound authority, before wrestling the portable workbench into the back of the jeep. 

They finish quickly, and Stiles figures he might as well try to keep up his ‘can do, man in charge, do as I say’ attitude, seeing as how he’s kind of _really_ enjoying it. So when everything’s stacked in the car, he turns to Derek and simply says ‘I’ll meet you at the house’, before getting in the jeep and driving off, leaving Derek to return the cart and follow him.

As soon as Stiles gets to the house he starts hauling stuff inside.

Derek arrives a couple of minutes later and wordlessly follows Stiles’ example. When they’re finished Stiles takes a seat at the wonky table, and chairs that constitute the entirety of the furniture in the house, and gestures at Derek to take the seat across from him.

“So,” he starts. “What’s your plan?”

The shifty look on Derek’s face tells him that there is, indeed, no plan. And when the former alpha looks around at the new but barren walls built on the old foundation of the Hale house, he looks a bit overwhelmed at the enormity of the project he took on.

Stiles doesn’t like that look on Derek. It makes something in the general vicinity of his heart squeeze uncomfortably. “Walk me through what’s already been done.”

So Derek tells him, about the building permit he finally got, and the company he hired to check and reinforce the original foundations. About the walls he’d wanted to keep, but was told would forever hold the scent of smoke…so he’d given the contractor permission to take them down and built new ones. About the electricity that’s been put in to the meter base and a main panel, but how the electrical wiring for the rest of the house still has to be done.

Stiles thinks it’s maybe the most Derek’s ever said to him at one time. “Okay,” he says, when Derek eventually falls silent, “you know you’re going to have to hire people for some of the work right?”

Derek frowns but nods anyway, like he’d rather do it all himself but knows he shouldn’t.

“But hey,” Stiles continues, “you can direct the whole process, right? You’ll need to figure out where exactly you want outlets, where you’re going to put a washer, and a dryer, even a dish washer maybe?”

Derek looks unimpressed at that last one.

“So…electricity, plumbing…that’s all stuff you need to make a plan for, so you can hire people, and we- _you_ can work on other projects while they do their thing. Do you have architectural drawings? Floor plans?”

Derek nods and goes to get them while Stiles impatiently taps his foot. He can feel himself getting more and more excited, and he can’t help but laugh at himself. Seems he hasn’t outgrown his tendency to get obsessed with a project.

That evening after Stiles gets home he stays up until three in the morning, putting Derek’s architectural drawings into the 3D floor planning program he downloaded, and googling tips on designing electrical wiring plans, because tomorrow he’s going back to the Hale house so he and Derek can map out the circuits and outlets.

* * *

 

 “Dude,” Stiles says, “You’re doing it wrong.”

He snorts at Derek’s frustrated growl and crawls over to the werewolf, turning on his back and wriggling until he’s lying next to him under the lowest part of the pitched roof. “Give me that,” he says, plucking the electric staple gun from Derek’s hands.

He puts the gun to the little flap on the rock-wool insulation blanket and staples it easily to the wooden beam.

“Goddamnit” Derek grumbles next to him and pulls the gun out of Stiles hands again. Once again his own staple goes straight through the flimsy material and deep into the wooden beam.

“I keep telling you, you’re pushing too hard.”

Derek takes a breath and tries again. This time the staple doesn’t go in far enough, and half of it still sticks out of the wood.

Stiles doesn’t mean to laugh at Derek- oh who is he kidding he totally does, and he laughs so hard he hits his head on the beam he’s lying underneath. He takes the staple gun back and gives Derek’s shoulder a push. “Go do something else. I’ll finish this.”

With another grumble Derek wriggles away and Stiles goes on stapling while Derek does god knows what. Stiles hears him moving around, so he’s still in the attic at least. “Hand me the tape will you?” He says when he’s done with the lower portion of the roof. “I’m down here anyway, might as well finish it up. Seconds later he feel Derek’s warm hands press the foil insulation tape into his hands. He hums a tune under his breath, while scooting back and forth applying the tape to all the edges of the insulation he just installed.

“Do you want a drink?” Derek asks quietly.

“Yeah, coke’d be nice.”

“Food?”

He thinks about it. It’s about lunch time. “Yeah, sure”

Derek disappears downstairs and Stiles keeps working. He’s enjoying himself. He never thought he would, really, he didn’t think he had the patience for this kind of work. But whatever they’re working at, he’s always seeing immediate progress and it’s nice. Fun. 

It also doesn’t hurt that Derek sucks at it. Now there’s a confidence boost. Big strong werewolf can’t handle power tools without messing it up, but Stiles can.

In the last couple of weeks he’s learned more about home improvement than he ever thought he would, and he knows he’s pretty much taken complete control of Derek’s ‘Hale house renovation’-project, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind.

He seems pretty content to do as Stiles tells him, buy what Stiles tells him, clean the mess Stiles makes and hand him the tools he asks for.

With all the work Stiles has done, he feels like the finished house will be partly his, and he really likes that thought. Scott and Isaac have been helping out too, but nowhere near as much as Stiles has.

“You want to eat here? Or downstairs?” Derek’s voice shakes him from his thoughts.

“Downstairs.” Too much Rock-wool fiber in the attic. 

And now that he’s thinking about it, he’s getting itchy. Great.

Downstairs he grabs the coke Derek holds out to him and takes a big swallow. “So,” he says, scratching idly at his itchy chest, “how’s the kitchen coming along.”

Derek doesn’t immediately answer, and Stiles follows his gaze, to his own bare stomach where his shirt is riding up as he scratches his chest. He feels a thrill go through him, because that right there…that’s the stare of a very distracted man, distracted by Stiles’ treasure trail. 

“Derek,” he snaps, because he’s cruel like that.

Derek’s startled eyes snap to his, and Stiles has to bite his lip to keep from smiling, because there’s an honest to god actual blush happening on Derek’s face. “How’s the kitchen coming along?”

While Derek talks about tiles and countertops Stiles only listens with half an ear, because for the first time ever Stiles just saw Derek give a sign of some form of attraction for him. And while an appreciation of someone’s bare stomach doesn’t indicate any kind of wish for a relationship or even sex with that person…Stiles is going to revel in this moment anyway. 

* * *

 

Stiles is getting ready to head to Derek’s again, there’s only a month of vacation left after all, and it would be great if they could get far enough that Derek can start painting when Stiles needs to go back to college.

His dad watches him stuff his laptop into his backpack. “So,” he says.

Stiles waits for the rest of that sentence, but nothings coming. “What?”

“So, when are you going to put that boy out of his misery?”

“What boy?” He has no idea what his dad is talking about.

“Derek?”

Stiles stops stuffing his bag and looks up at his dad. “Seriously? You’re calling him a boy now? You do realize he’s 27, right?”

His dad hums in agreement.

“Are you going to tell me not to spend so much time with him?”

“I was.”

“You were. Does that mean, you’re not, now? What changed?” The topic of Derek Hale was always a bit of a touchy subject with the sheriff.

“I ran into Derek at the grocery store. We had a little chat.”

His dad’s ‘chats’ are something he generally prefers his friends not to be on the receiving end of. “So, what did you say to him?”

The sheriff’s smile is almost gleeful. “Well, I didn’t get to say much of anything.”

Oh shit. “Did he bail?”

“I mentioned the house, and that you’re spending a lot of time there, and he started gushing.”

Stiles snorts. “Right. Gushing. You sure you were talking to Derek Hale?”

“Oh yeah.” His dad grins at him. “He told me how you were ‘unexpectedly good’ at the whole home improvement thing. And that your spatial insight is uncanny, and that you made a whole plan for the renovation of the house, and he doesn’t know how the hell you know all this stuff…Oh, and how you made him buy fourteen hundred dollars worth of equipment, and that you’ve used it all…And do I know if you like steak tartare, because he doesn’t want you to eat curly fries all the time, and do I think he’s ruining your summer vacation…And then he finally seemed to realize he was blabbering like a fool and he shut down completely.”

Stiles swallows thickly. “So, what did you say?”

“I told him you like steak tartare, but you like regular meatballs better, and that I expect a tour of the house before you go back to college.”

“That’s it.”

“Yep”

“You’re not going to try to keep your precious son away from the almost convicted felon?”

“Nope”

“O…kay”

“It’s kind of nice you know,” his dad says with a satisfied smile.

“What?”

“After all those years of you obsessing over people who never reciprocate…it’s kind of nice to see someone obsessing over you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at that statement, because okay, Derek might appreciate Stiles’ mad DIY-skills… and stare at his chest whenever Stiles changing his shirt, okay..and his ass when Stiles, sometimes deliberately, bends over to pick something up, but… “Come on, dad, obsessing?”

“That boy thinks the sun shines out of your ass,” the sheriff says as he turns to head up the stairs, “I like it.” With those words Stiles is left alone in the kitchen, with a stupid grin on his face that gets bigger by the second.  


	2. Chapter 2

“35.8 by….11”

“Coming up.” Stiles measures out the size, then puts the circular saw to the plywood. Derek meanwhile grabs a handful of screws and attempts to place the floorboard that Stiles cut to size earlier.

“Derek” Stiles says gently when Derek grabs the cordless screwdriver.

“Hnn?”

“Gotta drill a hole first.”

Derek doesn’t say anything but makes a rather aggressive grab for the drill. Biting back a grin, Stiles focuses back on the plywood board and doesn’t look up until he’s done. Gotta be careful after all. He’d like to keep all his fingers firmly attached to his hand.

When he’s done and he’s smoothing the edges of the board with a piece of sandpaper, he looks back over at Derek.

Derek who is bend over the other board, prying ineffectually at a tiny hole with one elongated nail. Stiles looks over at the power drill. The drill bit has broken off in the wood. _Again_.

It would be funny, it _is_ funny, but it’s the third time this happened in two days and Derek looks frustrated and angry with himself. And that’s not what this project is all about. It’s about Derek moving on, building a life for himself instead of tearing it down, and Stiles isn’t going to let it become one more thing the sourwolf can use to convince himself that, once again, he’s not good enough.

So he pokes Derek in the side and heaves an exaggerated sigh. “You know what your problem is? You’re just too damn fucking strong. Just because you _can_ bend metal, doesn’t mean you _have_ to…Speaking of strength, you think you can haul the rest of the plywood up here? Because we’re making pretty good time and I think we can get the whole floor done before six.”

Derek nods and gets up, throwing a hesitant look at the drill.

Stiles waves his hand in a shooing motion. “You go get the boards, because I’m not about to break my back with that stuff, and I’ll put another bit in.”

While Derek is hauling the heavy plywood boards up the stairs with ridiculous ease, Stiles replaces the bit and places a few floorboards. As soon as the former alpha is finished Stiles pushes the drill back into his hands. “Remember, let the drill do the work, god knows you paid enough for it.”

No more drill bits are broken that afternoon, and the whole floor is done by five thirty. As they stand in the doorway looking at it, Derek looks so pleased; it makes something squeeze uncomfortably in Stiles’ chest.

“So,” he says, “roof is insulated, floor is finished...we gonna start on the ceilings tomorrow?”

“Stiles…”

“What?” Stiles isn’t sure he likes Derek’s tone.

“There’s only a couple more weeks left of your vacation…”

He knows what Derek is getting at, and he deliberately pretends to misunderstand. “I know, right? But I think we can get the ceilings done in about a week, and if the panelling gets here on time-”

“Stiles…”

“What?” he says innocently.

“I just- Don’t you want to spend some of your time actually relaxing? Spend time with your friends?”

Stiles gives him an unimpressed look.

Derek back-pedals. “I mean, your _other_ friends. But- you’ve been here pretty much every day for two months already.”

It’s true. And irrelevant, as far as he’s concerned…but maybe Derek himself wants some space? It’s _his_ house after all, his project. Maybe for once he’d like to do something and not have Stiles watching over his shoulder, giving directions.  “Hey, if you want to be on your own for a while, I”

“No!”

Okay…that was a pretty emphatic denial…Stiles bites his lip to keep from smiling.

Derek clears his throat awkwardly. “No. I just don’t want you to regret spending your whole vacation working on the house. Vacations are there for a reason. College is hard work too and-”

“Derek,” Stiles holds up a hand. “I’m enjoying myself. The work we do _is_ relaxing. It’s like instant rewards all the time. So unless you’re sick of my company, I am going to spend the remaining weeks of my vacation building you a house, and when I go back to college I’m going to hound you about sticking to the plan, and demand you provide photographic evidence of your progress every other day, and-”

Stiles forgets what he was going to say next on account of the two steel bands around his chest restricting his airflow. It’s a little awkward as far as hugs go…just a little too much pressure to be comfortable…and before he can hug back properly Derek is already pulling away.

There’s an honest to god blush on Derek’s face and Stiles wants to kiss him, so badly. But he’s not going to risk the easy camaraderie they have right now. Sneaking a peek at someone’s treasure trail or staring at their mouth sometimes, does not equal wanting a relationship with them. Hell, Stiles has glanced at Allison’s boobs plenty of times, and it doesn’t mean he wants something more. He just likes the view. So just because he caught Derek staring a couple of times doesn’t necessarily mean anything, despite what his dad said.

Normally Stiles doesn’t have a problem putting himself out there, he’s done it plenty of times before, but it’s not so easy now that he actually has something to lose. “So…the ceilings?”

* * *

Stiles guess about how long it would take to finish the ceilings is off by a few days. They need almost a week to place all the gypsum boards, even though they’re working from early mornings till late in the evening, and then there’s the paintjob…

First they fill all the little holes where the screws went with a plaster paste…sand it…fill it again if it’s not smooth enough yet…sand again. Then remove all the dust. They have to put on two coats of primer, and two layers of texture paint and then a freaking top coat to finish it off.

The result is beautiful, but Stiles arms feel like lead. On the upside, he definitely gained some muscle mass during his vacation.

He’s a little sad he won’t be here when Derek starts with the panelling, but they got so much done in just a couple of months that he can’t help but feel proud of himself, and of Derek. Sometimes the both of them just stand together silently, looking around at the house that’s actually starting to look like a real house, like a home…

* * *

Two days before Stiles needs to leave for college, his dad comes to dinner at the Hale house. Derek bought steaks and is making baked potatoes in a ridiculously obvious attempt to get into the sheriff’s good graces. There’s even chocolate mousse, for crying out loud.

It’s a little awkward in the beginning, because Derek is visibly searching for things to say, and Stiles is enjoying this awkward and shy Derek enough to not jump in and take over the conversation…but when his dad asks about all the work they did it’s like a dam bursts.

“… and we had to staple it to the beams, but Stiles did most of that, because I kept pushing too hard and the staples went right through.”

Derek is _babbling_ , and now Stiles finally gets what his dad said about gushing.

It’s not that Derek is talking too much, or talking too fast, but for someone whose normal mode of communication involves mostly raised eyebrows, short sentences, and an assortment of grunts and growls…this truly is gushing.

His dad pats Derek on the back. “I’m proud of both of you, you did an amazing job.”

The look in Derek’s eyes at those words is so vulnerable it hurts to look at, so Stiles pushes his dad towards the stairs and drags Derek behind him. “Come on, let’s eat, and you better enjoy it, because don’t think I’m going to let you get away with eating chocolate mousse at every meal, mister, this is a special occasion only type thing.”

* * *

 

The day before he leaves Stiles spends most of his time doing laundry, and packing his suitcase.

It feels weird, knowing that Derek is working at the house without him, and there are moments where he wants to throw his suitcase out the window and yell ‘fuck college’ at the top of his lungs.

He doesn’t. Being an adult sucks. 

When everything is packed and he’s checked the oil, the coolant, the brake fluid and whatever else he can think of on the jeep, it’s early evening.

He watches a movie with his dad, who arranged his shift especially so he could spend the last evening of Stiles’ vacation with him. 

It’s a good movie.  Objectively speaking. But Stiles can’t seem to relax.  He’s nervous and jittery and there’s an unsettled feeling in his stomach that just won’t go away.

They’re watching the news when his dad slaps his hand down on Stiles’ restlessly bouncing leg. “Why don’t you- uh- go take one last look at the house?”

It’s ridiculous. He was there yesterday. And he walked through the entire house probably five times before leaving. He and Derek already said goodbye, and promised to stay in touch.  There was hugging and everything.

“It’s okay,” his dad says.

Stiles doesn’t think it is, really. He spent his entire vacation at the Hale house, and now, on the last evening at home with his dad, he still wants to go there. “Dad, I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” his dad sounds genuinely surprised.

“I- My entire vacation I’ve been at that house, we barely spent any time together, I was always rushing off, and now it’s the last evening and I’m still-”

“Hey now,” his dad pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, “none of that. I’m _proud_ of how you spent your summer. You’ve grown up so much. And it’s not like we don’t talk when you’re at school.”

“College, dad.”

“School”

Stiles squeezes back. “I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

“Two seconds ago you were talking about how I’m all grown-up.”

“You’re still a brat, now go visit Derek, before I change my mind and ground you.”

* * *

 

It’s quiet at the house when he arrives. Any other large house in the middle of the woods would dredge up thoughts of old horror movies, but not this one. This one just feels like home.

“Derek?” He calls out when he walks in.

There’s no answer, and Stiles is pretty sure that means he’s not here. The other man got out of the habit of sneaking up on Stiles after that unfortunate incident with the utility knife. 

He wanders through the house, feeling a little lost, trailing his fingers along the walls. There’s such a strange mixture of happiness, pride and sadness swirling around inside him, he’s not sure what to do with himself. 

When he passes what’s going to be the master bedroom he tries to imagine how it will look when it’s finished. Smooth dark wooden furniture, or maybe something lighter and rougher like dock wood. Right now it’s only an empty room with a mattress, pillow and blanket.

He hesitates a moment, but then grabs Derek’s pillow and buries his face in it.

It smells like Derek. Like warmth and paint and hard work and fresh wood. Maybe Derek will smell Stiles on his pillow when he comes back. If he does, he can make of it what he wants.

It’s getting late, like, _really_ late, and he knows he has to leave early tomorrow. He can’t stay any longer but before he leaves he grabs the note pad to leave one last message to Derek.

He stares at it for five minutes, but he doesn’t have the faintest idea how to say what he wants to say, so finally he just sticks to what they’re both comfortable with.

_“Dude, don’t forget to put the tarp down before painting the walls.  And use painter’s tape.  I know you think you can just cut the lines with a brush, but just don’t okay?  Use the type for outdoor use, even when you’re indoors, it sticks better._

_Don’t forget to sand the panels first, and email me when you decide on a floor because you’re probably going to need underlayment. Be careful about which type of brush you use for the water-based paints and the oil-based paints. And remember, the latex is not for use on wood!”_

* * *

 The long journey back to the dorm starts at six AM the next morning. He loads up the jeep, says goodbye to his dad, and keeps looking in his rear-view mirror until he’s left Beacon Hills far behind him.

He’s not sure why. Maybe because there was that tiny little bit of hope he’d see Derek.

He doesn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

The first day back at college, Stiles is so busy settling in that he doesn’t have much time to think of anything else.

The second day he receives a message. A picture.

A picture of neatly stacked panelling, and Stiles feels a weight lift off him that he didn’t even know he was feeling. He presses ‘call’ immediately. “Dude! Looks good! You think you’ll have to sand them first?”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek mutters, but Stiles can hear the smile in his voice.

“Did you get the wood stain already?”

“Yeah”

“How many coats will you need to put on it?”

“At least two.”

They talk for half an hour about how to prepare the wood, how to fasten it to the walls…and Stiles almost feels like he’s right there with Derek, like he could smell the wood if he just breathes in deep enough. 

Talking on the phone becomes a regular thing after that, and after a few calls he talks Derek through installing a web cam and skype on his laptop. Stiles hasn’t videochatted this much since…well…ever.

* * *

“So, you coming to the party or what?”

“Hnn?” Stiles answers intelligently.

“The party tonight,” Scott repeats, “you’re coming, right?”

“Nah, we’re starting with the underlayment tonight.”

“Underwhat?”

“The underlayment. Derek’s having vinyl put in the living room, so we need to put in a good base for that and-”

“Seriously?!”

“What?”

“Come on Stiles, you’re seriously considering not going to this party? A party at which several people will be present who specifically asked me if _you_ would be there, a party which will most likely lead to you getting laid…all because you’re planning to spend _another_ evening watching Derek work on the house?!”

“Hey!” Stiles mutters, “I don’t just watch him work, I’m working too! I’m writing my essay.”

“Which is due when?”

“I don’t know… a week or something?” It’s due in two weeks actually, three if you want to be anal about it, but Scott doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s Friday evening Stiles. Is this really what you want your college experience to be? Sitting in your room videochatting about vinyl floors?”

It does sound a little bit pathetic when Scott puts it like that. Maybe he _should_ go to the party. He might meet a nice boy or girl, get a little drunk…live the college lifestyle…

“Alright,” he tells Scott, “I’ll go.” Derek will understand, right?

When Scott leaves, satisfied he’s saved Stiles from wasting away is his college dorm room, Stiles grabs his phone and calls Derek.

Derek answers almost immediately. “Hey”

“Hey.”

“Something wrong?”

“No dude, I’m just calling to say I can’t-” Stiles hesitates, he almost said ‘can’t help with the house’, but that would sound stupid, because all he can do from here is watch Derek work and comment on the way he abuses powertools, “I can’t make it tonight. There’s this party and Scott is insisting I go, because, you know, Friday night, and I think he just doesn’t want to go by himself, even though Kira is going, but-”

“Stiles…”

“Yeah?”

“Of course you should go to the party.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We talked about how I’m going to put in the underlayment, remember? You explained it, even though it’s not exactly rocket science, you emailed me _a diagram_.”

Stiles snorts. Maybe he’d gone a bit overboard with the diagram, Derek may be a little clumsy with tools sometimes, but he’s certainly not an idiot. It’s just that Stiles likes feeling like he’s still helping with the house even though he can’t actually be there.

“You have fun at the party alright? I’ll let you know tomorrow how I’m doing with the floors.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks.” There’s an awkward silence. “Bye?”

“Bye Stiles, have fun.”

* * *

It a good party.  A great party even. The music is good, there are copious amounts of beer and little green drinks with umbrellas, and he’s danced with Melanie and Ron and both of them seem eager to do a more private kind of dancing with him.

If Stiles plays his cards right there’s a very good chance of him having a threesome tonight.

So why can’t he stop thinking about Derek, back in Beacon Hills, all alone without anyone to make fun of him and comment about his plumber’s crack?

He leaves the party before midnight, claiming a headache, and walks back to his dorm slowly. 

Two years ago rabid werewolves wouldn’t have been able to get Stiles to leave that party. But then, two years ago he was a virgin, desperate to finally experience the joys of sex.

College has been kind to him in that regard though. Apparently the things that make Stiles _Stiles_ and that somehow made him unfuckable in high school, are the same traits that make him pretty damn popular in college.

He’s had his share of meaningless sex and right now that’s just not what he wants. So what _does_ he want?

Derek.

He wants Derek, and not just for sex. Maybe he’s a little bit young to be thinking about building a life with someone, but that’s what he wants with Derek. And that’s what he’s been doing…pretty much literally, even if Derek doesn’t realise it.

Maybe it’s time to really own up to the fact that what he feels for Derek is not just friendship with a heavy side of lust.

Winter break is only three months away and Stiles will be home for almost a month…maybe it’s time to take a chance.

* * *

Stiles phone vibrates with a message and he stealthily checks his screen, he _is_ in class after all.

At first he’s not sure what he’s looking at, it’s a greyish wood pattern, that much he knows but it has just a tiny little bit more shine to it than actual wood. Then he sees a familiar colour near the edge of the image and it all falls into place. It’s the vinyl floor that Derek’s been talking about.  Another message comes in with another picture, this time more of the walls is visible and the combination of the grey wood pattern on the floor, the warmer wood colour of the panelling and the white on the other walls is stunning. It looks ridiculously good and Stiles has to force himself to sit through the rest of the class and not simply leave to go call Derek. 

He whips out his phone the second his class is over and starts rambling as soon as he hears Derek pick up. “Oh my god dude, it looks so good! I didn’t think it would work with the different colors of wood but it looks amazing! And they cut it really neatly, you won’t even need to install trims to cover the edges…now aren’t you glad I told you to have it done by a professional instead of doing it yourself?”

“Hi Stiles”

“Right. Hi, Derek, so…are you happy with it?”

“Yes.”

“Wow man, don’t sound too enthusiastic or anything.”

Derek laughs and Stiles can’t help smiling in response.

“I’m very pleased with it, it looks even better than I’d hoped.”

That’s about as enthusiastic as Derek is ever going to sound, so Stiles leaves it at that. “Well,” he says, “what’s our next project?”

The line stays silent for a moment. “Derek?” he asks, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I- I’m not sure what’s next actually.”

Stiles feels his stomach drop. He knew Derek was making a lot of progress and that a lot of the big jobs were done already but somehow it never actually clicked that the house was close to being finished. “Right…almost done, huh?” There’s another moment of silence. “I guess the next thing is furniture shopping?” He adds hopefully.

“Yeah, I guess so. Lydia offered to help with that.”

Lydia…even though she’s as much part of the pack as Stiles is, and she’s probably glad she finally gets to help out too…- manual labour is not her thing, but style and shopping certainly are- …he can’t help but resent her right now.

“Okay…well…don’t forget comfort is just as important as style, alright? And don’t ever buy a couch without sitting on it for fifteen minutes first.”

“Stiles-”

“I’ve got to run, Sourwolf,” he interrupts Derek, “my next class is starting. Bye!” He presses ‘end call’ and takes a couple of deep shuddering breaths. Then he slowly starts making his way toward the library.

He has an hour and a half to spend before his next class starts.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles is so thoroughly convinced that his video chats with Derek will come to an abrupt end now the renovation is pretty much done…that he’s startled when Derek name pops up on his screen at their usual time. 

For a moment he considers pretending he’s not there…but since not talking to someone because you’re afraid you won’t get to talk to them anymore is the single most counterproductive thought he has ever had…he quickly gets over himself. 

He accepts the call with a cheerful “Hey, buddy”.

It sounds fake and after Derek’s quiet “Hey” it stays silent for too long.

Stiles hates this. He’s talked with Derek, or at least _at_ Derek while the other man worked, for hours at a time. It was so easy, so effortless and comfortable. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“I’m bored.” Derek suddenly blurts out.

“You’re…bored?” Stiles repeats slowly while his heart makes a hopeful little jump.

“There was always something to do. And now there’s…not.”

“Well,” Stiles says, “what did you do before the renovation then?” Not call Stiles, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know.”

“Brood?”

Derek huffs. “I read. Books.”

“So you can finally read a book again. That’s good, right?”

“I don’t feel like reading.”

Derek sounds so petulant about it that Stiles has to bite his lip to keep the smile out of his voice. “We can watch a movie?”

“I don’t have a TV yet.” Derek grumbles.

Stiles grins at that because it’s just so typically Derek. “You can watch it on your laptop sourwolf. Also, you should tell Lydia to get on that right away, because Pack movie nights will be a thing in the near future alright?”

“I don’t have any-”

“No worries dude,” Stiles interrupts him, bouncing in his chair, “I have like a whole list you can choose from and I’ve got Splitcam.  You pick. We watch.”

“Okay.”

Stiles does a mental fist pump and opens a folder on his desktop.  He really does have an actual list. Made it one night at 2:00 am because he was absolutely sure he had that one movie but he couldn’t for the life of him find it anywhere on his computer. It comes in handy now and he sends it over to Derek.

As he waits for Derek to pick one, he wonders what the other man will make of his movie tastes. It ranges from ‘How to train your dragon’ to ‘The Godfather’ and pretty much everything in between.

He hears Derek snort at some of the movie titles and feels a blush trying to rise to his cheeks. Yes, he has Bambi alright. There’s no shame in it.

“What’s this ‘Hachi’ movie?” Derek finally says. “Is it any good?”

_Oh boy_. “Yeah, it’s good…But uh- I cannot in good conscience let you watch that movie alone.”

“Stiles,” Derek says dryly “I think I can handle a scary movie.”

“It’s not a scary movie.” Well, it _is_ sort of….because the thought of losing someone he loves scares the absolute fuck out of Stiles, but it’s not the kind of scary movie Derek is thinking about.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He doesn’t want to give the entire storyline away if Derek doesn’t know it yet, but there is just no way he’s going to let Derek watch this movie all by himself in the house that used to be home to his entire family. “It’s emotional, okay.” He finally says, “Trust me. You’ll need a hug after this movie.”

That’s an understatement if there ever was one…Stiles cried like a freaking baby after watching it. “You’ll need a hug and I’m not there to give it to you, so pick something else. We can watch Hachi when I’m home for winter break.”

That seems to satisfy Derek and after a moment he offers “Iron man?”

They settle down to watch the movie together but Stiles finds himself paying more attention to Derek’s little huffs of laughter than Robert Downey Jr.’s performance. 

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks Stiles’ fears about Derek disappearing from his life are laid to rest. They talk…they watch movies…Derek complains about Lydia…

Stiles can tell he doesn’t mean it though. He gets regular picture updates and the house looks absolutely gorgeous. It’s fit to be in a magazine.  

“Have you thought about what you want in your room?” Derek asks him one night.

Stiles wants to cheer about the fact that Derek is still giving him his own room. They’d talked about it before of course. Isaac gets one, and Scott, Lydia too. Of course they’re all expected to share when more pack members want to stay over…but still.

Stiles tries to stay casual about it. “A bed, of course, and a dresser would be nice.” He’s not planning on going into more detail than that. It’s Derek’s house after all. _He_ should get to decide what he wants to put in it and Stiles honestly doesn’t care much what his room will look like. He’s just really fucking happy he _has_ one.

“Right,” Derek says “how about a bookcase, for your uh...collection?”

 

Derek has a point there. Stiles took a few of his books on the occult with him to college, but the majority of them is still in his old room in his dad’s house. Storing the lot of them at Derek’s house would make a lot more sense. That way the rest of the pack will have easier access to them. “Yeah, a bookcase would be good.”

“And you’ll need a desk…” Derek adds, “You know, if the pack needs you to do some research.”

“There’s always the kitchen table.”

“You’ll get distracted.”

_True_. He nods. “Yeah, maybe a desk too.”

“And one of those whiteboards.”

Stiles snorts. “Come on Derek, I don’t actually _need_ one.”

“But they come in handy, right?”

“Well yeah, but-”

Derek interrupts his feeble protest. “Did you have a TV in your old room?”

“Uhm.”

“You did. I remember. What kind of desk chair do you want?”

After that he just gives in and lets Derek interrogate him about what his perfect room would look like.

“…and I want a rug," Stiles says half an hour later, "there’s nothing worse than cold floors when you just got out of bed.”

Derek snorts but he writes it down on the little notepad he produced out of nowhere halfway through their conversation. Stiles feels a strange mix of guilt and delight. Guilt, because he’s pretty sure Derek is going to buy all the things they talked about…delight because Derek _wants_ to buy him all the things they talked about. Maybe it’s just a thank you for all the time he spent helping with the renovation, but he can’t help but hope there’s a little more to it than that.

* * *

 

Stiles is feeling good. Ridiculously good. He got an A for his essay, and he’s pretty sure he did really well on his exam this morning. Also, there are only two more weeks left before winter break.

 So yeah, he’s happy, and when Derek calls him he’s feeling confident and playful. “Hey there! How’s my sourwolf doing today?”

“Stiles” Derek grumbles.

“What?” Stiles says innocently. “Hey, your hair looks good today.”

Derek frowns and self-consciously runs a hand through his hair. “It’s the same as always.”

Stiles smiles blithely. “Yes it is.”

Derek doesn’t say anything and after an awkward moment Stiles breaks the silence. “You want to watch another movie?”

“Actually,” Derek says, “I can’t stay on long today. A lot of furniture was delivered today and most of it needs to be assembled.”

“That’s alright.  I’ll just watch and tell you when you’re doing it wrong.” Stiles says with a grin. “You know, like old times.”

 “No, that’s alright.  The instructions are pretty clear. I can do it on my own.”

“But-”

“How did your exam go?”

Stiles frowns at the obvious change of subject. “I think I did good…”

“That’s great! I knew you would. Listen, I’m going to get to work now, I’ll talk to you in a couple of days alright?”

Stiles has to work hard to keep the disappointment from showing on his face. “Yeah, alright. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

As soon as they end the call the doubt sets it. He can’t help but wonder if his innocent little flirt was the cause for Derek ending the call so abruptly. That couldn’t be it though, right? You could barely even call it flirting.  It was more of a cheeky compliment.

But then why didn’t Derek let Stiles stay and watch while he worked like they always did?

Part of him wants to call Derek again and ask if he did something wrong. But if it really was the flirting that made Derek uncomfortable then he’s not going to appreciate it if Stiles calls him back like some kind of needy little boyfriend.

_Damn it_.  From top of the world to lower than the titanic in less than five minutes. That has to be a record of some sort.

* * *

 

Over the next two weeks he and Derek talk a few times, but Derek seems nervous and their conversations are shorter than usual. Whenever he asks about the house, which is every time they talk because that’s sort of _their thing_ , Derek just tells him things are coming along and he won’t go into more detail than that.

It drives Stiles nuts and eventually he gets paranoid enough to interrogate his dad about the state of Derek’s house. But the sheriff tells him he swung by the house a couple of days ago and everything was perfectly fine.

So it’s not the house.  It’s Stiles…

For once he's almost grateful for the huge amount of work he has to do for his classes, because it keeps him from brooding about Derek 24/7.

Time flies, even when you're _not_ having fun, and before he knows it winter break has arrived and he’s packing his backs to head on home.

* * *

Stiles drops his bags off at his dad’s house and than heads over to the precinct to say hi to his dad. They hug for so long that the deputies start laughing at them. Stiles gives them the finger behind his dad’s back. Screw them. Stilinski men hug.  It’s what they do, and they do it well. No half-hearted, back-clapping, shoulder bumping semi-hugs here.  

They have a  cup of coffee in his dad’s office and Stiles generously allows his dad to take a donut when Parrish comes in to offer them. After half an hour though his dad has to leave when a traffic accident is called in and Stiles takes that as his cue to leave too.

Once he's back in the jeep, Stiles takes a couple of deep breaths because now comes the part that Stiles has been dreading and looking forward to with equal measure. He's heading over to Derek’s house…

 It looks gorgeous on the outside.  It already did when Stiles left, but now it looks like someone actually lives there.  There are curtains, and pots with flowers, and a doormat and all the little things that make a house look like a home.

He walks up to the door, butterflies in his stomach, and he’s just about to knock when the door opens and he’s pulled into a tight hug. Tight enough that he has trouble breathing and has to pat Derek’s shoulder to tell him he needs a little air.  

The tension he’s been holding for the past two weeks flows away at Derek’s warm welcome and he squeezes back tightly for a moment before giving Derek a little shove. “Dude, I am not waiting any longer to see this house, alright?”

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek says, but he sounds so happy about it that it makes Stiles snort with laughter.

As Derek takes a step to the side, Isaac takes his place to pull Stiles into a hug and after him there’s Scott. Stiles rolls his eyes. “Scott, I saw you two days ago.”

“So?”

“Fair point.”

“Lydia and Allison?” Stiles asks when Scott lets him go.

“Allison is with Chris for tonight.  She’ll come over tomorrow, and Lydia won’t be here for another two days.”

Stiles nods and looks over at Derek. “Alright man, give me the tour.”

And a tour he gets…the house looks even better inside than it does from the outside. The furniture is stylish and tasteful, but still comfortable and Stiles can’t find a single thing that he doesn’t like.

And then Derek takes him upstairs. He gets to see Scott’s, Isaac’s and Lydia’s room and they’re beautiful and cosy and perfect, and then there’s only one room left aside from the master bedroom, and Stiles heart is pounding in anticipation.

But when Derek opens the door and he finally gets to see it, his stomach drops.

It’s beautiful. It is. There’s a really large wooden desk and a hefty bookcase that already has a lot of Stiles books, his dad must have brought them over. A giant whiteboard covers almost half of a wall, and …holy shit… it’s the electronic, interactive kind. There’s a large framed map of Beacon Hills and its surroundings on the other wall and there are tiny little magnets sitting in one corner of the map. It’s a freaking _magnetic_ map. The two desk chairs look like they belong in the office of a fortune 500 company CEO.

Stiles should be salivating over this room. He would be...if it wasn’t for the one thing that the room is missing…

A bed.

There’s no bed and the message couldn’t be any clearer for Stiles…He always knew that is was possible, likely even, that Derek wouldn’t return his feelings…but having it shoved in his face like this hurts like hell.

Derek clears his throat awkwardly when Stiles stays silent. “I realized we didn’t really have a study or anything, so I figured you could double up with Scott.”

Stiles just nods, because he’s pretty sure if he opens his mouth the only sound that would come out would be a sob. He’s already blinking fast to keep the tears from spilling over.

Derek tugs him out of what was once supposed to be Stiles’ room and toward Derek’s own room…the master bedroom.

Stiles really can’t bring himself to care about what Derek’s room looks like, but he steps in anyway, if only to keep Derek from looking at his face. 

This room is larger than the other ones and once again it’s gorgeous. There’s a huge king-size bed, standing on a thick, luxurious looking rug. On the opposite side there’s a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall and that’s a surprise because he didn’t think Derek was the kind of person who wanted a TV in the bedroom at all…

On the small stand beneath the TV there’s a dark grey, square-ish thing that looks suspiciously like a PS4.

Stiles stops breathing.

His eyes drift across the room and land on a couple of framed pictures standing on the window sill. There’s one of Derek with Laura, one of Derek with Cora, one of Erica and Boyd, and the last picture is of Stiles and his dad, taken at the precinct barbeque last year.

Stiles takes a shaky breath and slowly turns to look at Derek.

“Or you could stay in here with me.” Derek says.

Stiles takes three large quick steps and when their lips meet it’s more of a collision than a kiss. It’s awkward and their noses bump but it’s perfect and Derek is kissing him back and Stiles never wants it to end.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story please leave kudos or a comment. I'll love you forever.


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